


Balikbayan (Returning to One's Roots)

by airamcg



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Fantastic Racism, Fish out of Water, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts AU, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Philippine Mythological Creatures, Potions, Potions Masters, Racism, Spells & Enchantments, in the loosest sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg/pseuds/airamcg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Perhaps it begins with a girl named Pearl, hiding in the bushes of a dried out park, her father's last slap still stinging on her face. She comes from magic, or so she's been told- she can barely remember the last time her mother dared cast a spell. She herself has only ever made brief bursts of magic- so brief, she's not even sure if they were truly real.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Way before she became Hogwarts’s resident Potions Master, before even The Great Gem War in Wizarding Britain, Pearl Magpantay-Williams had gone on a pilgrimage to her mother’s homeland in order to rediscover her magical roots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balikbayan (Returning to One's Roots)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CompletelyDifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Resurrection Stone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4505934) by [CompletelyDifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent/pseuds/CompletelyDifferent). 



> (This story is set in the same continuity/universe as CompletelyDifferent’s Hogwarts AU fic [The Resurrection Stone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4505934/chapters/10246662), written with the author’s permission and blessing. But since the events happening here are set way before the main storyline, this story can stand and be read on its own.)
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any character’s resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Please check if reading about magic is legal in your country. **The author will not be held responsible for any encounters with your local magical law enforcement.**
> 
> The university described in this story is real, but the campus layout and culture is not time-accurate to the setting of the early 90’s simply because that time frame is way before my time. Some spells, rituals, and magical objects portrayed here may also not be entirely accurate, since I was more focused on magical creatures in my studies.

 

 

* * *

 

The first thing Pearl noticed, once the post-Portkey unpleasantness had subsided, was the sweltering heat. Despite having donned her shortest, lightest summer dress— a lovely white number that barely reached her knees— she still ended up drenched in sweat within the minute. The Philippines was a tropical country, after all, and it seemed she had made the mistake of going there in the middle of its summer.

It was pitch dark where she stood, and she was surrounded by trees. That couldn’t be right; the portkey should have taken her to the grounds of a university campus in one of the cities in Metro Manila. At least that was what she was told at the Department of Magical Transportation, but then Transcontinental Portkeys were known to be off a few miles sometimes. Thankfully she had arrived on solid ground, and not, say, in the middle of the ocean far from any of the islands. She was already regretting not doing enough research on the local geography, or at least knowing the names of the major Muggle cities, in case of situations like this. There was no use crying over spilt Pepper-Up, however, so she casted a quick _Lumos_ and started walking.

As it was, she didn’t know much about the Philippines, Muggle or magic. It was insanely difficult to get any kind of information about the local wizarding community; and while she knew of a few relatives who lived in the country, she couldn’t send letters to any of them because she didn’t know their residence addresses. As for magical means of communication, well, long distance Owl Post only covered Europe, and the Floo network required fireplaces. She tried asking the Department of International Magical Cooperation for help, but only got laughed at for her troubles.

“Why do you even want to know about some uncultured islands?” they scoffed. “They don’t have a governing body equivalent to the Ministry of Magic, and from what I’ve heard, they don’t even have a standardized system for magic education! Backwards thinking for the backwaters, I tell you what!”

It was by sheer luck that she had found an old letter addressed to a _Ma. Cristina Magpantay_ , squished between the mattress and frame of her childhood bed. Pearl knew nothing of its contents, but assumed the sender _Luntian Gonzales_ was from the motherland because of the language it was written in. Translation charms didn’t work on it, but there was a complete return address; and Pearl couldn’t help wondering if her mother had deliberately left that letter in there for her to find, as if she had somehow known her daughter would take an interest in her side of the family.

After all, it was where the magic came from...

“ _Ma’am! Ma’am, bawal po dyan!_ ”

Pearl startled and pointed her wand in the shout’s direction. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she had nearly reached a road, and that a patrolling security guard had spotted her. She extinguished the light and pocketed her wand.

“ _Ma’am, bawal po tumambay dyan ‘pag gabi,_ ” the guard shakily called out again, pointing his own flashlight at her face.

Squinting against the brightness, she shielded her eyes with a free hand and replied, hoping he could understand English, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m lost and I don’t understand Filipino.”

“Ahhh.” He lowered the flashlight’s beam to help her see where she was going, as she stepped onto the concrete sidewalk. He was still eyeing her cautiously. “I was saying not allowed to _istambay_ here at night, ma’am. Very dangerous. Many _holdaper_ and rapist around.”

“I-I see.” Pearl blanched. She didn’t realize she had been wandering around the bad side of town. On instinct, her hand slipped inside her pocket and wrapped around the handle of her wand. “Well, thank you for warning me, sir.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. But where are you headed _ba_?”

“I’m not sure. I was supposed to meet someone, but...” She shrugged. There was no way she could explain her situation to the Muggle, but then she couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse on the fly either. Thankfully, he didn’t press the issue.

“Well you wait near the dorms, ma’am. Much safer there.” He nodded, his lips puckering to point at some vague direction, presumably at the dorms he mentioned. Pearl couldn’t make them out in the darkness. “I will walk you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” interjected Pearl, her gestures emphasizing a firm but polite refusal. As nice as the offer was, Pearl felt she would be much safer if she could cast spells for her own protection, without having to worry about breaching the Statute of Secrecy. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own. I just need directions to get there. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your patrol.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her, scrutinizing, but after a beat he just shrugged and pointed his flashlight down the road to Pearl’s right. “Okay. See the tennis court? Turn left there. Next corner is dorms. On left is Molave Hall, right is Yakal Hall, further is Kalayaan Hall. Do you gets?”

“Yes. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. Okay. Take care, _ha_?” The guard gave her an awkward parting wave before continuing on his patrol, leaving her alone in the middle of the road.

Pearl turned and headed towards the other direction, following his instructions to the letter. It wasn’t too far a walk to the tennis court, and it wasn’t as dark as the clearing she Portkeyed into either. A few Muggle street lights were on, occasionally flickering. They immersed the path in a sickly yellow brightness. She felt a sense of foreboding with each step, however, a prickle in the back of her neck as if she was being watched. Her grip tightened around her wand. Cold sweat trickled down her spine despite the summer heat. She kept casting furtive glances around, hoping to catch her stalker, but all she saw were the trees lining the sidewalk, their gnarly branches reaching towards the sky and obscuring the almost-full moon.

The building past the tennis court seemed like an academic facility, so she guessed she must have arrived in the correct area after all. The absence of human noise throughout the walk unsettled her though. All she could pick out were the rustling leaves, chirping crickets, and croaking bullfrogs, as if she was in a meadow in the middle of nowhere instead of in the heart of a major city. If she was indeed in university grounds, surely she should have encountered a few more people besides the patrolling guard. Like, perhaps, students trudging home from a late night class or a nearby party, or maybe a few cars passing her by.

But there were none.

Maybe it was too late at night for that?

From her other pocket, she fished out the chained pocket watch Rose had given her for her seventeenth birthday, briefly caressing its pink floral engraving and silver finish before flipping it open. She was disappointed to find its face hadn’t adjusted automatically to the local time. Its bejeweled hands still said it was around a quarter to six, just several minutes after she had left London. Perhaps travelling such a distance over a short period of time had confused the magic of the watch, and Pearl added ‘time difference’ to her growing list of regrets for not thoroughly researching in advance.

She had turned the corner and was nearing the block where the dorms were located when she caught sight of a young girl, barely five feet tall, who seemed to be jogging and frantically waving at her at the same time.

“Pearl! You’re Pearl, right?” the girl hollered, heedless of the sleepy late-night silence. Her jog sped up into a sprint. When she finally reached Pearl, she doubled over, panting and dripping sweat all over. “Oh thank— _pant_ — thank god I found you! I’m sorry— _wheeze_ — didn’t realize the time, and— _gasp_ — so worried that you might have left the— _wheeze_ — without waiting for me, so I ran as fast as I— _pant_ — Geez, _Ate_ Tina would totally pull my feet if I had lost you!”

Pearl stared at the girl before her— at her sweat-soaked bob of wavy hair, her rectangular glasses knocked askew, her simple t-shirt and shorts obviously meant for sleepwear— and wondered if she was one of her younger cousins sent here to pick her up. She had exchanged a few letters with the Luntian Gonzales from her mother’s letter. It turned out she was her mother’s cousin, and was more than happy to accommodate Pearl during her stay in the country. Pearl had felt receptive about the offer initially, but at the moment, she was having doubts about the arrangement if her host thought sending a kid barely in her teens out in the middle of the night was a good idea.

But then again, once she had regained composure, the girl seemed to have an adult atmosphere about her. Behind the clunky glasses, her dark eyes occasionally flicked to the tiniest movement in their surroundings while still paying attention— exhibiting a heightened sense of awareness that would take years to develop, let alone master. Plus the way she addressed Pearl’s mother... Pearl may not speak or understand Filipino much, but she knew enough that _Ate_ was usually for addressing older female relatives close enough in age to be called ‘sister.’ But it didn’t make sense for this young girl to call her mother that... Unless she was...

“Are you... _You_ are Luntian?” Pearl sputtered out, despite doing her best to stamp on the incredulity in her voice.

The girl grinned sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of her head. “It’s pronounced ‘Loon-TEE-ahn’ but yeah. Just call me Nix for short, though. Everyone does,” said Luntian— or Nix or whatever— as she started to lead the way back to where she came from.

 _Who even uses a nickname so different from their real one?_ Pearl pressed two fingers at the crease between her eyebrows to ease some of the tension building there. It would have made sense if Lun— _Nix_ was as young as she seemed. But if the girl before her really was her mother’s cousin (and if she remembered her great aunts and uncles’ ages correctly), Nix should be a few years older than Pearl at the very least. It was proving to be difficult wrapping her head around the facts and reconciling them with the conclusions she’d drawn earlier, so Pearl just kept rubbing between her brows.

“Something wrong? Headache?” Nix paused mid-step, peering at Pearl worriedly. They had already walked past the dorms by then, and seemed to be heading for the small housing area further along. The asphalt underfoot had become increasingly uneven, more akin to a dirt road than a proper street. There were also more trees in that area, and the bullfrogs’ croaking had grown loud enough to become jarring.

Pearl lowered her hand and tried to give Nix an assuring smile, but it only felt awkward on her lips. “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just... Well... It’s just...” She sighed and started fidgeting with the collar of her dress, which kept sticking to her sweaty skin. _Might as well just come out with it._ “To be honest, I was expecting someone older,” she said apologetically.

Nix stared at her for exactly three beats, before exploding into hysterical laughter. She even doubled over again, slapping her knee while gasping for breath. Pearl scowled and felt a very much put off at the behavior. It must have even shown on her face, because Nix immediately backpedaled. “I’m sorry. I’m so _so_ sorry! I didn’t mean to offend— I wasn’t laughing _at_ you, honest! It’s just that… Well, I get that a lot, like you wouldn’t even believe...” Once the laughter had subsided, she cleared her throat and asked, “Just out of curiosity, Pearl. How old do you think I am?”

“Looking at you right now?”

“Yeah. Hit me with your best shot.”

Pearl did not want to offend her host with wrong assumptions, but since she had insisted...

“Thirteen.”

Nix burst into another round of laughter, although it was more subdued than her earlier hysterics. She playfully slapped Pearl’s back— and probably would have even wrapped an arm around her shoulders if it weren’t for the height difference— while whispering conspiratorially, “I’ll let you in on a secret, my dear: I’m actually 24 years old.”

At that exact moment, Pearl tripped on a rock so hard, she would have landed flat on her face had she not regained her balance on time. Her jaw, however, had dropped to the ground as she whipped around to her companion. “What kind of spell are you using to look this young?!”

“Nope, no spell.” Nix chuckled, obviously amused at Pearl’s bewilderment. “It’s all natural genetics. You’d probably look younger than your age too, if you weren’t so tall. Aaaaaaand here we are!”

Nix pushed open a steel grill gate, its hinges screeching loudly enough to make Pearl wince. The screen door to the house itself wasn’t any better, with the high-pitched creaks it made for every little movement. Inside was a tiny hallway, barely two and a half feet wide, leading to a small kitchen with a dining area made of plastic furniture. On her left was a plywood door, and on her right was four feet of cheap tapestry depicting The Last Supper. It supposedly doubled as a calendar, but was a few years outdated.

There were no floating pots, no moving pictures, no indication that anyone of magical heritage was living there. Everything was so incredibly _Muggle_ that Pearl had to suppress a shudder. The feel of it all simply rubbed her the wrong way.

“My room’s over here,” said Nix, inserting a key into the door on the left, then kicking it open. “It’s not much, but make yourself at home.”

The room inside was cramped and had little walking space. A wooden closet tall enough to reach the ceiling. A neatly made double bed in the corner farthest from the door. A study table cluttered with an assortment of books, copy paper, and other student knick-knacks. Two electric fans of different sizes. A number of plastic crates shoved into out-of-the-way spaces such as under the bed or table. Pearl gawked at the sight, taking it all in and wondering, _How in the world could anyone live like this?_

“I, uh, spent most of today cleaning up, so... uh, well... yeah...” Nix was awkwardly fidgeting with the doorknob, clearly embarrassed, before deciding to go inside to switch on the taller of the two fans and point it at Pearl. The air it blew wasn’t any cooler than the rest of the house, but it was much better than melting in the still heat. Then she started rummaging all over the room, gathering some yellow pad paper, a book, and a few ballpoint pens. “The bed’s all yours for the night. You should probably get some rest.”

“What about you?” asked Pearl, watching Nix take her gathered supplies to the dining area.

“Not sleeping. I have an essay due at seven.”

“Oh.” Pearl had had her own share of cramming homework in Hogwarts, so she understood where Nix was coming from. The mention of time, however, reminded her of one of her predicaments earlier. She took out her pocket watch and started fiddling with its many tiny dials. “What time is it right now?”

“A little past one, I think?”

Pearl set her watch to 1:10am. Better to be a little advanced than a little late. “An all-nighter, huh? Is there anything I can help you with? Not to brag, but I had pretty decent grades in Hogwarts.”

Nix was digging through the books on the study table when she replied, “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s just some boring stuff about the Americans twisting Rizal’s works to suit their colonial agenda.” At Pearl’s blank look, Nix shrugged and amended, “Eh, it’s just some non-magical history. You’ll like sleeping better, I promise.”

_Non-magical history?_

Other than the broad strokes she learned during primary school, Pearl didn’t know much about it. It didn’t seem too important to her anyway, since she had every intention of living only in magical communities after she had graduated. However, the mention of learning about that side of history had stoked Pearl’s interest in her mother’s cousin. Perhaps she was taking a masters equivalent to Muggle Studies? For what other reason would a witch study the history of Muggles in depth?

...Was Nix even a witch?

Pearl wasn’t sure, if she were being completely honest. Nix obviously knew about magic, and had mentioned potions and spells in her letters before. But from what she had seen so far, Nix seemed to live as a Muggle, among Muggles. A Squib, perhaps? For any other witch or wizard, that would be enough to explain the decor and lack of wand waving, but Pearl knew too well that that wasn’t always the case.

“Here, you can wear these for bed,” chirped Nix, breaking Pearl out of her reverie. She shoved some clothes into Pearl’s hands before scurrying out of the room again. “Just holler if you need anything else. I’ll hear you from the kitchen. Sleep tight!”

Pearl stared at the clothes in her trembling hands— a wispy tank top and a pair of short shorts— and then at the plywood door left ajar. She drew out her wand and with a quick wave, the door shut with a soft click. Another wave, and her white dress was replaced with the borrowed sleepwear. And then she smiled, a sad almost imperceptible quirk on her lips, as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. Pearl wasn’t one to whimsically use her magic on every little thing she could otherwise do using only her body, but being able to do so at that moment gave her a sense of reaffirmation— that the magic was real, that she didn’t need to be ashamed of it, and that things would be all right.

Maybe she was just being silly.

Pearl didn’t know the circumstances behind Nix’s living situation, but she knew her own; and barring the secrecy laws, having to hide her magic never sat well with her. As she laid on her back on the surprisingly comfy double bed, she couldn’t help but wonder:

_Was I wrong to come here?_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 Notes: 
> 
> Literally, _balikbayan_ is a compound word of “balik” (“to return”) and “bayan” (“country” or “town” but in this context, it means “home land”). It usually refers to Filipino nationals or persons of Filipino descent returning to the motherland after living abroad for an extended period of time.
> 
>  _Perlas ng Silanganan_ means “Pearl of the Orient,” which is one of the many names for The Philippine Islands. And a quick sidebar on this: our words for East/Orient (Silangan/Silanganan) is derived from a word that means “birth.” 
> 
> Pearl’s mother’s surname, _Magpantay_ , is Tagalog for “to make equal/even/level.”
> 
>  _Luntian_ is the Tagalog word for “the color green” and it isn’t normally used as a name. Neither is her character’s behavior typical of the average Filipino, but that will be explored more later in the fic.
> 
>  _“Ma’am! Ma’am, bawal po dyan!”_ = Ma’am! Ma’am, you’re not allowed there!
> 
>  _“Ma’am, bawal po tumambay dyan ‘pag gabi.”_ = Ma’am, you’re not allowed to hang around there at night. 
> 
> _Tambay_ or _istambay_ is a word derived from the English “stand by” and, depending on context, could mean something along the lines of “being idle”, “hanging out”, “loitering”, etc. or refer to people who do such.
> 
>  _Holdap_ is derived from the English “hold up,” and means “a stick up” or “to rob someone”; a _holdaper_ is a person who does _holdap_.
> 
>  _Ate_ (pronounced: AH-teh) literally means “elder sister” but in this case, as Pearl had mentioned, it is used has an honorific for an older female relative. There are other uses for the word, but I’ll just explain them as they come up in the fic. 
> 
> There’s a Filipino superstition that if you do something that could disappoint or irritate someone who is dead, the dead person will pull on your foot. “ _Hahatakin ko paa mo ‘pag namatay ako_ ” (I’ll pull on your foot if/when I die) is also a common playful remark similar to “I’ll haunt you if/when I die.”
> 
> Many Filipinos look insanely younger than their age, especially if they have a small stature. I once had a classmate in university who often got mistaken for a 9-year-old when she was actually around 23-24 at the time and can judo throw a man twice her height and build.


End file.
